Reading
by xXThePrincessXx
Summary: Reading offers the wonderful opportunity for distraction.
_Hello! Today is a lovely day so I thought I'd post something. I don't think I've ever written anything quite like this, so feel free to leave a comment if you feel so inclined to let me know if it was any good or not! It would be much appreciated._

 _As per the usual, I don't own anything, I just borrow from the Overlord BioWare._

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Very rarely did Hawke wish that Fenris were less stubborn. It was one of her favorite things about the man, he stuck with an opinion or a side until the bitter end. But at that moment, Delia wished he would consider wearing something other than his armor when he came to the mansion for reading lessons. She was sprawled across the loveseat, her legs dangling off the arm while her head resting in his lap. The edge of his belt buckle was jabbing into the side of her head and one of the ties on his tunic was digging into the base of her skull. She would have adjusted herself to a more comfortable position, but that would distract his reading and stop his lovely voice peeling the words from the page in front of him to release into the air for her to absorb.

It had been a rather uneventful week, nothing outside of Kirkwall had needed their attention. Aveline had requested help with a few late night strikes on gangs in the dirtier parts of Lowtown, but that was the most excitement they had seen. This offered a wonderfully rare opportunity for Hawke to spend more time with her Fenris and he seemed to share that desire. He had come over for his "reading lesson" though, truth be told, he hadn't needed help reading in quite some time. They used it mostly as an excuse to see each other, alone, more than anything else these days. It didn't draw any more attention to them than usual, which Hawke supposed was good; it had only been a month since their reconciliation. She didn't need Varric and Isabela breathing down her neck for details, adding undue pressure to an aspect of her life that was finally working out how she wanted.

She would have to try and speak to him again about wearing normal clothing when he came to see her. Ostensibly, every time she had tried she'd told him to try out more casual clothing to put the past in the past and move forward from his time as a guard dog. More practically, she offered him trousers and loose shirts so that she could comfortably lay on him without fear of being poked and prodded from something on his belt or one of the many ties of his tunic. He always refused however, stating something about "personal safety" and "preparedness" as he declined the proffered clothing. She usually responded by rolling her eyes and saying that the walk from her estate to his was hardly as dangerous as he made it out to be. But alas, like arguing with a stone wall, she got nowhere. Delia exhaled and twitched her head to the side, only slightly, trying to relieve the growing ache in her neck. Although she'd barely moved, it was enough for Fenris' voice to hitch to a stop, one of his hands dropping from the book in front of him to rest on her head, his fingers twining in her hair. This took but a second as he began to read again, his fingers playing with her hair and the cold metal of his gauntlet raising gooseflesh along her exposed arms. Delia closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the story and distract herself from the knob of knotted thread shoved into her neck at an even worse angle than before.

She had nearly succeeded in distracting herself when Fenris stopped reading all together. She wondered if he'd found a word he didn't know… He needed to try and figure it out on his own before she swooped in to the rescue. The silence stretched on and his fingers pulled through her hair with the utmost care. She resolved to count to thirty before checking on him to see what was wrong, but she found she could only make it to fifteen before her patience ran out. Counting was not nearly as good a distraction as listening to him read. Delia cracked an eye open to inspect the situation, expecting to see the book pressed as close to Fenris' face as he could get it, his brow scrunched low over his eyes as he tried to decipher the words in front of him. Instead, she found him looking down at her, his green eyes soft and warm, filled with an expression she almost never witnessed. Their expression shifted slightly when Delia opened her other eye to look up at him, one of her eyebrows slightly rising up her forehead.

"I thought you were asl—" She cut him off abruptly as she propped herself up on an elbow to kiss him. He yelped and flinched, a hand quickly coming to support her head while the other dropped the book and held her elbow off of his leg. She smiled into the kiss and when an opportunity presented itself, she drew away, leaving a hair's breadth between their lips.

"Sorry, did my elbow cause some damage?" Her eyes glinted mischievously as a smirk continued to pull at her lips. Fenris let out a low laugh, his breath ghosting across her cheeks.

"Nothing I cannot handle, if you are concerned." He replied, tugging her closer and bumping his forehead with hers.

"I was quite concerned. I don't think I've ever heard you make that sound before. Though your reaction was quite swift." Delia diverted her attention to Fenris' cheek, where she pressed a gentle kiss. She felt him smile a little wider as the skin beneath her lips wrinkled. She smiled too and nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck, pressing herself tighter too his chest. There wasn't much space left to squeeze out from between them.

"Well," Fenris had turned ever so slightly so he could whisper in her ear. "Your elbow stabbed a little too close to something rather valuable to me." Hawke struggled to hold a laugh back, a small giggle escaping and making her shoulders shake. She felt the lithe arm around her shoulders tighten and a tiny quiver in Fenris' shoulder betrayed his own amusement. "I had to act quickly in order to save it from a far more deadly attack." This time Hawke couldn't hold back her laugh as he spoke. He pressed a kiss behind her ear and she could feel his smile there. She pulled back enough so she could see his face, tugging one of her legs over the arm of the loveseat to fold beneath her as she sat up.

"I must say," She giggled again and had to squeeze her eyes shut to gain her composure. Fenris traced a line down her face with a finger to draw her attention back to him. She giggled again and then coughed, working to regain herself. "I must say, I had no idea that a wayward elbow could cause such distress. I must express my _deepest_ apologies," she wrapped her tongue around the word, hoping she had given it the proper tone, "to the victim of this attack. I can only hope that you can forgive me."

Fenris was quiet for a long time, simply watching her as she sat and waited for his response. Delia found herself wishing that she could pry his skull open so she could see what happened in his mind. He was too good at hiding his emotions, she always found herself wondering what he was thinking. She was just beginning to learn how to read his face again, after three years of trying not to read it at all, lest she find more pain than she wanted. He eventually shifted, just enough so that she fit a little better into his lap. She still had a leg splayed over the arm of the loveseat, but she wasn't angled nearly as awkwardly as before.

"I suppose," he said, pulling her closer again, "that I can find it in my heart to forgive you." Hawke smiled as he brought his forehead to hers again. It seemed that he was very much in favor of shared space that evening. "I don't know that I could ever hold anything against you." Fenris breathed as he closed his eyes, the words hanging in their shared space. Hawke blinked and tried to process what he'd said. His tone was soft, complementing the gentle tug of his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Delia marveled at this, how they had gone from allies, to friends, to… _more_ before sliding back to being allies with a past better left where it had fallen. Yet there they were, cuddled on a tiny couch, pressing into each other like they'd never survive should they part. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. In all of her experiences, those who had left her were gone for good, they never came back. She let them go. But he, Fenris, had come back to her. She thought the happiness she felt at this reality would bubble over, straight out of her and into the air around them, she could barely contain it. She laughed quietly, the warmth in her chest expanding outward and into the room, her magic tinging the air with her delight. Hawke tilted her head back slightly from his, just enough so she could kiss his nose. Fenris didn't react except for a slight smile tugging the corner of his mouth upwards.

"Well then," Hawke paused, settling her forehead back against his, the happy ache in her chest accompanied by the hum of her still expanding magic. "I humbly thank you for pardoning my past mistakes." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I would never be able to live with myself if the past destroyed the future." Her words were quiet on the end of her sigh, flowing out of her as naturally as the breath that carried them. She hadn't intended that they leave the safety of her thoughts, but she couldn't reign them back. Her tentative relationship with Fenris needed honesty to grow strong.

When she felt Fenris pull his forehead away from hers, she tried not to flinch, not to assume the worst. Still, curiosity got the better of her so she opened her eyes and sat a little straighter, lifting her gaze to meet his. Delia Hawke had battled dragons and Qunari, she could not justify avoiding they eye of the man in front of her. He looked serious and she felt worry prick her gut again, but she pushed it aside and waited for his response as patiently as she could. He continued to stare without a word and she struggled not to squirm or say anything, question him, expose her insecurity lurking beneath the surface. But her will was set, she would wait for him, just as before. It would be up to him to come back with a response.

After what seemed like hours of sitting and staring at each other across a small, yet large, gap, he chose to act, closing the distance between them again in a heartbeat. His lips met hers and she reacted instinctively, kissing him back to equal his passion and urgency. He yanked her closer, pressing his chest to hers and wrapping a strong arm around her waist as the other ran up her spine, up her neck and into her hair. In a short amount of time they were each gasping, but they still couldn't get enough.

"No." Fenris began, interrupted by a kiss. "It is I who—" he panted "—would never—" he kissed her again "—be able to—" she wrapped her arms around his neck and snaked her fingers through his hair "—live with—" the kiss turned hungry "—myself if—" his voice was raspy now "—the past—" she leaned into him "—destroyed—" he pushed back "—the future." They leaned back into the loveseat, it was the only thing to provide them support. "I'm sorry." The words were faint. "I am so—" her fingers trailed down his neck towards his tunic "—so—" the knots came undone with little struggle, but more urgency "—sorry." With that final word they fell into each other, Hawke's magic still hanging in the air as everything else fell away.


End file.
